


Babe

by AaNnYyCcHhOoUu



Series: Millagh... Naaah! [1]
Category: Shameless (Podcast), Shameless (US), Shameless (US) RPF
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Mickey Milkovich, Canon Compliant, Domestic Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Fluff and Smut, Gallavich, Gallavich Endgame, Ian Gallagher Loves Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher and Mickey Milkovich in Love, M/M, Mickey Milkovich Loves Ian Gallagher, Mickey Milkovich in Mexico, Pet Names, Season/Series 10, Sex, Smut, Top Ian Gallagher
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:01:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24668032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AaNnYyCcHhOoUu/pseuds/AaNnYyCcHhOoUu
Summary: In the heat of the moment, sometimes, Mickey calls Ian Babe. That is so out of character for the Milkovich... But Ian can't have enough of it!
Relationships: Ian Gallagher & Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Series: Millagh... Naaah! [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1783597
Comments: 57
Kudos: 273





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing, first time posting. I am excited and utterly stressed at the same time!
> 
> I have made mistakes for sure, in the tagging, or context... Please let me know.
> 
> So this is the first part of a 4 parts story (this part is in 5 chapters). I will reunite them in a series called "Millagh… Naaah!"
> 
> I hope some of you will read and like where I bring Ian and Mickey. If some points are unanswered here it's normal they will be answered in the next stories.
> 
> Please let me know what you think (It's crazy as something as trivial as this is so scary!)
> 
> I have edited this chapter to show the original layout I had planed but couldn't manage to set the first time around. Hope this makes more readable ;-)

Ian woke up rested but somehow missing something. A quick glance behind him was enough to understand what he was missing. His husband. Another few second cleared his mind and reminded him that he was off today and must have overslept. Door closed, alarm off. Of course, Mickey wanted him to sleep. He jumped out of bed and onto his sweatpants discarded on the floor the night before. He grabbed a t-shirt on the pile of clean clothes waiting to be put away, checked it was his and exited the room, making a hard turn right to enter the bathroom. While peeing he tried to rehearse the little surprise he had for Mickey, anticipating his husband’s reaction to be flowery at best. As he could hear noise downstairs, he knew that Mickey would open the gift in front of everyone. But he didn’t care, making him uncomfortable was actually part of the excitement. The Gallagher household had never been shy when it came to sex, so they wouldn’t mind much anyhow.

Ian was excited. He knew Mickey would be surprised, after all, who in their right mind celebrate the anniversary of their first time? He grabbed the carefully wrapped box and climbed down the stairs gracefully.

As expected, the whole family was in the kitchen, including Lip and Tami, whose house still undergoing major work, were having most of their meals at the Gallaghers. Mickey was seated at the table, back to the stairs and sipping his coffee while checking Liam’s math homework. This was an unexpected turn of event that happened as the married couple settled for the first time ever. Mickey bounded differently with all the siblings (although not as much as Ian had hoped with Lip). But somehow, he became some sort of a confident figure for Liam. The two of them speaking Spanish helped for sure. Lip tried to join their conversations a few times, but his Spanish was nowhere good enough, so he soon retreated like a wounded dog. And out of the blue, Mickey had started helping with his homework. And more surprisingly so, he was good at it. Well for Math and Science at least, because, even in a good mood, English was a firm and definitive no. But still, every time this happened everyone would look at them openly surprised, although less and less as time went by. Obviously, they noticed the looks on them and reacted every time by having a few words in Spanish and laugh. That’s when Lip would react too by either leaving the room or rechecking Liam’s homework after Mickey.

Ian circled Mickey’s shoulders with his arms, crooning his nose in his husband’s neck and inhaled loudly. God this smell! Would he ever get tired of it?

Mickey shifted his head to the left to give more space to Ian so he could rest on his shoulder and keep his nose buried in the hollow of his neck. “Morning, Sleeping beauty!”

A low growl escaped Ian, coming from deep inside, “Mornin’”. And with no explanation he put the gift in front of Mickey.

“The fuck is that for?”. “Happy anniversary!”, Ian couldn’t conceal his grin. A few seconds of frowned brows and Mickey’s face lit up with one of these wide smiles he reserved to Ian only. It didn’t take him long to understand what anniversary Ian was celebrating, and the thought of that made Ian’s inside all fuzzy.

“But it’s not been a year since you’ve been married!” Liam was clearly trying to understand. And Ian obliged. “It’s another anniversary!”, “But…”, “Shut it, Liam”, Debbie stepped in, guessing that whatever anniversary they were celebrating, her little brother, or her daughter , for that matter, did not need to know.

Mickey made a quick work of the wrapping paper and looked surprised at the shoe box which evidently, by account of the noise it made when he shook it, didn’t contain shoes at all. The brunette opened the box and closed it almost immediately with a moody “Fucker”.  
However, he didn’t close the box fast enough for Liam not to pick a glance. And sure enough, the boy had questions.

“What are those? It looks like a toy!” The question started a chain reaction and before either Ian or Mick could do anything, Debbie had opened the box and grabbed one of the items to examine it.

And leave it to Carl to push it the one step too far. “Oh, it’s Ben Wa Beads! You shove it up your ass and…” “Carl! Seriously?” Lip had suddenly stepped in knowing Carl would conscientiously give detailed information and How-tos on a sex toy to his 10-year-old brother.

Mickey got Lip’s intent and grabbed the box before running upstairs to put it away. But also, and mainly, to hide his blushing face. It was moments like this he wishes Ian and he had their own place. But Ian needed to stay in the Gallagher’s house for now, Mickey couldn’t deny the craziness in this house brought some sort of balance to his husband. So, they would stay there as long as necessary.

The Milkovich came back to a quieter kitchen, grabbed his coffee and leaned against the counter as Ian had seated in his place.

“Your phone rang, man”, he told his husband matter-of-factly. Ian finished his coffee in a few gulps. Dropped his mug in the sink and his pill bottles in their place by the microwave. He ran up the stairs so gracefully, his steps were soundless.

The phone was on the nightstand where he left it last night. Ian took a second to look at his childhood bedroom and how it had changed recently. Mickey was ok to stay here but only if they made it their room. Ian was comforted by both staying here and having his own space with his husband. He wasn’t sure Mickey would understand his need to stay in this house. But as usual the little thug got it even before Ian could explain it.  
When the Milkovich brothers came around with Mickey’s fucking entire bedroom, Ian realized his husband knew him. When Carl moved all his stuff to their old bedroom, he realized that his husband knew him so well, he had actually done exactly what Ian needed, before he could even put it into words.  
The bed was against the back wall in lieu and place of the bunk bed and the never used desk underneath, facing the window. A tall chest drawer was now replacing Ian’s old bed, and Mickey’s “alpha male” posters covered the walls. Ian felt safe in that room, surrounded by Mickey’s safety and his family’s comfort. He felt grounded.

The tall ginger grabbed his phone and saw a text message. Hoping it wasn’t help requested from work, he swiped his finger on the screen to see the message was coming from Mickey (?).

Mickey / 9:04 - _Bet you though I wouldn’t think about it. Chest drawer, Asshole._

Ian didn’t notice he was agape until his mouth felt uncomfortably dry. Sure enough, a not that badly wrapped package was resting on the furniture. He grabbed it anxiously and opened it fast.  
It took Ian a short while to understand what he was holding, but when he did, his legs started wobbling so much so that he practically had to jump on the bed to avoid falling down.

The simple black plastic frame was more or less the size of an A4 paper. Inside a wishing card had been cut in two to show the front and one of the inside pages.  
The card was blue with a bunch of flowers in the middle, with a dominant of brown and yellow, petals all across the page, a dark blue and gold butterfly in the bottom right corner and a message in gold at the top. Someone had scratched parts of the message and written over it:

**Happy ~~Hanukah~~ BIRTHDAY**

The other part of the card was plain blue and only showed a handwritten message:

_**Happy birthday my gorgeous Ian,** _   
_**mummy loves you so, so, so much, my darling!** _   
_**Love, Mum** _

The writing in thick black pen was somewhat slightly deleted by time, but still perfectly readable. Ian looked at the frame for some time, unable to move, or even breathe. Just when he thought Mickey couldn’t possibly do more for him, the asshole stepped up and raised the bar even more.

Right now, the only thing Ian wanted was to go downstairs kiss his husband and try to control himself enough to reach their bedroom before he fucked him good and hard. The only thing he knew he could give Mickey right away that Mickey would appreciate: mind blowing sex. Until he found a way to prove to him once again that he loved him, the same way the fucker proved how much he loved him with this gift. He knew Mickey wouldn’t enjoy the display of affection in public (If you can call the Gallagher siblings public…).  
Well, too damn bad for him, Ian was feeling so much love for his man right in this instant that he couldn’t care less about public display shit. He exited the bedroom in one expert slide and jumped down the stairs leading to the kitchen. Before anyone could acknowledge his presence, he was onto Mick and crashed their lips together, his tongue relentlessly demanding entry until finally the other man’s lips parted. Ian’s kiss was rough, strong, and sensual. His right hand had reach Mickey’s neck the second it could, while his left hand tightly held the febrile body by the waist. His whole body pushing his man into the counter, hard, with no shame and no regard for their bemused audience. Mickey managed to throw his full mug on the counter in the split second it took him to get what Ian was about to do. Abandoning the idea of resisting the tornado that was a horny Ian, he just braced himself, holding the other man’s hips as if they were buoys at high sea.

The coffee spilling on the counter caught the attention of the siblings around them who moved around to clear the mess. This brought Ian back to the reality of where they were and who was there with them. He was glad, as the way things were going, he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t have gone a bit too far before anyone stopped him. And given with which fervor Mickey was retaliating his kiss, he realized, that apparently, Mickey wouldn’t have been the one to stop him. This made the whole situation even more exciting.

Ian abruptly broke the kiss and grabbed his husband by the hand, leading them upstairs on the double.

A screaming Debbie, “Please, close your door this time!” was the last thing they heard before they abandoned themselves into each other, the way Ian could only do with Mickey, and Mickey with Ian. None of them believed in this soulmate crap. How could they, given where and how they grew up? Isn’t it sad, though, that should they believe in it, they’d understand that it was exactly what they were. Soulmates.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the heat of the moment, sometimes, Mickey calls Ian Babe. That is so out of character for the Milkovich... But Ian can't have enough of it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow, so some of you read chapter one! I'm so so happy! 
> 
> Here is chapter 2... I guess I went somewhere there, hope you follow me! This is still canon compliant but I took some liberty with what was left unsaid in season 7.
> 
> Be aware there is smut (or at least my attempt at it) and angst in this chapter. There will be a happy ending :-)
> 
> Thanks for the kudos and please don't hesitate to comment, I'm a newbie here and welcome all constructive criticism!
> 
> Also, I have noticed that the layout was a little messed up in chapter 1, and went back to it to sort it out. Still working on finding out how AO3 works!
> 
> So hope you enjoy!

Fucking was never hard for them. Their bodies were drawn to each other and took over their brains in a matter of seconds. But when their mixin’ up was brought by emotions like Mickey offering the best fucking gift ever to Ian, then the sex was from another dimension, on another plane of existence. None of them really remembered their actions. None of them would have even remembered if someone had knocked on the door or even entered the room, or even sat on the bed. In that moment it was just them. Looking at each other, whispering into each other’s ears, mouths. Only then, when he let himself go completely, Mickey used a pet name for Ian. And Ian couldn’t get enough of hearing his husband calling him that.

The two men were still panting, trying to get hold of their breathing again. Mickey’s head in the crook of Ian’s armpit, both of their left hands entangled in an obvious effort to make their rings clink. A noise they both enjoyed fondly and were not apologetic for.

Ian gathered all the courage he was able to for his next comment, not knowing how his husband would react to the topic of the conversation he wanted to start.

“I really like when you call me that!”

“When I call you what?” Could it be that Mickey did it without knowing?

“You know, sometimes, you call me babe, when we fuck, and I like it, I don’t mind if you do it more.”

“The fuck you’re speaking about Gallagher?” Although Ian knew his emotion-impaired husband might badly react to this. He honestly wasn’t expecting Mickey to be that upset. Mickey’s tone was harsh, his body language suddenly aggressive.

“Sorry, forget it.” He tried to remain calm as he knew anything might trigger Mickey’s inner Godzilla. The brunette was already standing and gathering his clothes.

“Fuckin’ pet name! The fuck you wanna do next, wear matching sweatshirts?!” Mickey left the room as soon as he was dressed leaving a sheepish Ian in the bed.

*

Mickey / 4:38 – _Hey. Sorry for this morning but I don’t do fuckin pet names, you should know that._

Mickey / 4:40 – _Gotta go see Larry, said he has a solution for me to set up the company. Wanna meet up for diner after?_

Ian / 4:42 – _Was I just invited on a date?_

Mickey / 4:48 – _Fuck off_

Ian / 4:51 – _Love you!_

Mickey / 5:38 – _Love you too asshole. 6:30, Sizzlers_

When Ian arrived at the restaurant, Mickey was already at the table and sipping through his beer. Ian’s beer was already waiting on the table. The ginger man wasn’t surprised, Mickey had taken the habit a while back to order for him if he wasn’t there. So, it was very likely he had ordered his meal as well. Ian found it endearing, although he wouldn’t say anything like that to his husband. Above all not tonight. Not with what he had in mind. Jesus, maybe he was crazy. With the way Mickey reacted this morning, pushing him even more, was crazy, right? But Ian needed more. Even more than what his man was giving him. Which was so much already. He had no right to ask for more, he knew, and yet he wanted more. More feelings, more ‘I love you’, more ‘babe’ when he was inside him. That wasn’t fair at all. That was ground for conflict with Mickey. Ian knew all that. But after Mickey unconsciously did it again this morning, all hell broke loose. Mickey’s open-heart spill was addictive and Ian was hooked.

“Hey, you ok?” Ian didn’t wait for an answer. “How was it with Larry, did he find a solution?”

“Yeah, actually! Some sort of loophole or some shit. He said if I put the company in the name of someone with no record, and I am the manager, I can open it. And when probation is over, I can put it in my name.” Mickey downed his beer in one go, and immediately ordered a new one to the waiter passing by. The waiter looked expectantly at Ian. Mickey just told him he would have water from now on. Even though he enjoyed that his husband knew him enough to be able to order food for him, Ian wasn’t sure he liked that Mickey took charge like that when it came specifically to his medication and alcohol intake. But truth was, that was how Mickey managed to get him his Job back as an EMT. And that was so fucking unbelievable that he could, after everything that happened, that letting his husband meddle a bit wasn’t too much to pay after all.

“So, I was thinking I could put it in Liam’s name, you know. Plus, he’s already offered to help me with advertisement and shit,” He said matter-of-factly. The decision was already taken so Ian didn’t even try to discuss. He knew this wouldn’t go well with Lip; he would deal with that when time comes.

Food came; indeed, Mickey had ordered for him. So, in return he ordered another beer for Mickey.

Their meal finished; Ian ordered yet another beer for his husband. Mickey didn’t really pay attention as he was already planning his company start. He was biting the left corner of his bottom lip, apparently calculating all outcomes already in his head. The biggest mistake people in their neighbourhood had made, was to think that the Middle sibling Milkovich was the same dirty stupid white trash as the rest of them. But Ian knew better, he knew his man was smart and a lot more intelligent than you would give him credit for. He knew how to plan. And let’s be fair, if it hadn’t been for Ian, he would have never done time, or been shot for that matter. Did he even deserve this man?

“I’ll start tomorrow, there’s a shitload of papers to fill out and file with the city hall,” Mickey sounded defeated but Ian knew that was just a façade, another way to make himself look less so that you wouldn’t see what’s coming. God, he loved him!

The waiter bringing Mickey’s next beer, asked if they wanted to see the dessert menu. Ian declined for both.

“I wouldn’t mind somethin’ sweet.” The brunette grim was so filthy it made Ian’s dick twitch a bit.

“What shift you workin’ tomorrow?”. “Day shift 9 to 9” Ian sighed.

Mickey downed his last beer even faster than the previous ones, got up, legs barely holding him. He was tipsy, just how Ian wanted him.

“Let’s go. We don’t want you tired tomorrow morning and I wanna try my gift tonight, so we’d better get the fuck home right now!”

Mickey threw a few bills on the table, not bothering to even wonder if it was enough and they left stealthily. Or, well, as stealthily as a drunk Milkovich would allow.

The way back home was like old times. Loud conversations and heavy laughter, and sheer joy when Mickey missed the seat on the L and fell hard.

Back at the house they went straight to their room. Horny Mickey has always been a little impatient. Drunk horny Mickey was downright demanding. Ian loved them both.

*

The door shut, Mickey jumped on his husband, simultaneously trying to unfasten Ian’s belt, remove his own shirt and guide them toward the bed. This was a little too much for the intoxicated flimsy Milkovich. At the sight of Mickey getting stuck in his shirt, collar over his head, left arm lost in the sleeve, Ian laughed out loud.

“The fuck you laughin’ at?” Mickey tried to push Ian on the bed, but his blind and clumsy body ended up falling face first on the bouncing mattress. And bouncing drunk Mick brought Ian to tears with laughter, and finally made him laugh as well. He gave up, just laid there on his stomach, waiting for his husband to take control and make a mess out of him. Ian jumped on the opportunity, in a few experts moves he was naked and on top of the naked dead weight that was Mick right now. Feeling their bodies touching, sobered the brunette a little. He started to make tiny circle movements underneath Ian to create some very welcome friction, sighing at the feeling of Ian hardening at warp speed.

Ian enjoyed laying on top of his man for a short while, feeling their skin touching, feeling the goose bumps on Mickey’s arms, it was endearing, it was exciting.

Slowly bringing his tongue from the base of his lover’s neck to his ear, nibbling for a second at the lobe, and back to the neck, the shoulders, adding teeth from that point forward, Ian looked at his work for a second, the milky skin turning red right where his teeth were. Beautiful! He made his way down the shoulder plates. His nibbling at the ribs brought moaning a little louder than usual, reminding him that the man under his ministration was a little drunk and not as controlled as usual. And this ass, just looking at it made Ian want more, so he took it, diving to the right cheek and biting hard, only releasing the skin when the moans exiting Mick’s perfect mouth became squeals; lapping at his art work, he couldn’t help a gasp when he tasted blood. “Oh shit!” Ian looked at the mark on his husband ass cheek and sighed, then closed his eyes to try and get rid of that feeling in his belly he knew too well before he couldn’t control it anymore. Breathing in, breathing out, until his balls felt less tight, until he could regain control of his body. He wasn’t done with the wiggling body underneath him.

“The fuck you waitin’ for?” Patience was not Mick’s virtue, sober or drunk equally. But then again, on all accounts, Ian had difficulties to control his own right now, so he understood very well. He slowly opened his man’s ass cheeks and lapped at the ring of muscles. A few strokes with the wet flat of his tongue, before darting inside with the tip. The muscles relaxed little by little accompanied with loud sighs and low moans, although Ian couldn’t tell for the life of him if those beautiful noises were his or his husbands. Most likely both.

Mickey started to move up and down, fucking himself on Ian’s tongue, and the ginger knew that if he was to get what he wanted out of him it was now or never. He got up, which brought a whimper out of the shorter man falling apart below him. Whimper soon replaced by an impatient growl when he heard the recognizable noise of his birthday box being picked up.

Ian slicked two of his fingers with some lube and unceremoniously pushed them into Mickey. He knew Mickey needed some preparation to welcome the giant beads and he also knew he usually liked it rough, and if the moans exiting his man right now were any proof of that, he could actually add another finger straight away. But he decided two were enough as he wanted Mickey to feel the burn when each bead entered him.

And how happy was he with his decision? Watching the love of his life wincing as he pushed the first bead inside of him, excruciatingly slowly, was amazing; but coupled with the man’s growls, and moans, and his trembling thighs, was pure bliss. Ian tried to ignore his raging hard on. This was all about Mickey tonight. The first bead swallowed by his husbands body, he pulled on the string and stopped at the first resistance, he then brought the second bead to the twitching hole and pushed it in slowly, mesmerized by the show in front of him, how the muscles worked to take it in, how Mickey was becoming a panting mess under his eyes. The man was letting go of all will and power when in bed with Ian, letting his lust take over in the most heavenly way. He was handsome, Ian knew it, he also was beautiful when he was sleeping, but when he was abandoning himself to pleasure the way only Ian could see, there was no word to describe the beauty of this man. The moment when Ian knew only he could release him; this moment was pure ecstasy. It wasn’t even sexual anymore for Ian, it was out of this world, it was heaven, their heaven. The two of them communing with their bodies, their voices, their smells. In that exact moment, Ian didn’t care anymore for his own release, all that counted was Mickey. To touch Mickey, to feel him, to hear him, smell him. He only knew it was the same for Mickey, because in that exact moment he would do anything to get Ian to his own orgasm. He was actually speaking to him, not sure what he was saying. Back to reality. “Come on, babe, touch yourself, please, do that for me!” Mick had turned his head to an angle that didn’t seem very comfortable, just to pic a look at Ian’s painfully hard and leaking length. _Babe_ , he called him babe again!

Ian let go of the cord leading to the now three beads buried in the throbbing hole of his panting husband. He stood up and breathed deeply. he called him babe again, he couldn’t lose it now. He was ready to take one for the team if it meant getting Mickey to admit and accept his use of the pet name… and more importantly, use it again. Ian had come to the realization that he enjoyed it too much to do without.

It took him a short while to get hold of himself again, all the while doing his best to ignore Mickey’s impatient growls and flowery demands. Satisfied that he could control his own arousal for the time being, he went back to his beautiful sweating and swearing half and pulled very slowly on the cord exiting his asshole. The first bead made its way out, slowly, slithering out of the hole pulling the ring muscles out with it, and pulling such amazing noises out of the panting man, Ian couldn’t help but gasp. He was mesmerized and only noticed then that Mickey had propped his ass up to welcome the sextoy.

“Oh fuck, beautiful!” Ian whispered. Fortunately, Mickey wasn’t too far gone yet and could reply. “Glad you enjoy it as much as I do, asshole, keep going.” But Ian had other plans, he pushed the slicked bead back in, eliciting a happy sigh from his husband, and pulled on the cord again until he found resistance. And stopped.

“What you waitin for, fuckin’ tease!”

“You like it?”

“Yeah, go on!”

“You want me to keep going?”

“What? Yeah I want you to keep going!”

“Then promise you’ll keep calling me babe!”

Short and heavy silence.

“What the fuck Gallagher!? Just fucking pull them out already!” Mickey wasn’t horny anymore; he was pissed. What the fuck just happened?

Ian gently pulled on the cord to extract the beads. The whole thing lost all hotness with Mickey angrily blowing through his nose like a buffalo. Once the sextoy was back in its shoe box, waiting the next morning to be cleaned, Ian shyly got into bed where Mickey had already slipped under the covers and turned his back to him.

“I’m sorry Mick”, no answer. Ian, shifted his body to his usual sleeping position, spooning his husband, arm over his shoulder holding his hand. Mick let him do but didn’t move his body in response. What was happening right now!?

And then it hit Ian. It was a habit he somehow couldn’t control when the heat was too overwhelming… It was a habit… “You were used to say that to someone else, didn’t you?” Mickey shrugged slightly. “Holy fuck!”

The silence in the room was deafening, it lasted long, too long. “Who?” was the only thing Ian could word, even though so many more questions were popping in his mind.

“What’s it to you, anyways?” Mickey, got up, made quick work of his clothes, grabbed his smokes and left the room, leaving his naked husband speechless in the bed.

*

After a moment, Ian finally found him on the back stairs outside, smoking. “You told me you never had a serious relationship apart from me!” Mickey looked at him sceptical, his left eyebrow raised high. “No, you said I never had a relationship and didn’t let me speak after that.” The matter-of-fact tone killed Ian inside.

“Who? When? How...” Mickey cut him. “Does it matter?” Ian looked at his husband for a while, sighed deeply and decided to look at the dark sky for his next words, not sure he could face Mickey. “Yeah, Mick, it matters to me”, he took a breath and spoke again, before the other man could say anything. “I thought I was bringing you the stability of a relationship. With all you bring to me and with all the shit coming with my fucking bipolar, I thought at least I got to show you what a relationship is.” He gulped a little more loudly than he wanted to, his Adam apple bobbing in his throat. “And now I learn that you had someone you fucking called babe,”

Mickey remained quiet for a while, pulled on his ciggie a few times before he handed it to Ian. The ginger took it as he swiped the pool of tears accumulated in the corner of his eyes. The other man dropped his head between his shoulders. “What d’you wanna know?” the words were almost whispered.

“When?”, “Mexico”. Shit, Mexico. Obviously, Mexico. Ian felt a gap digging in his gut, the image of himself digging his own grave came to mind.

“I need you to tell me everything.” The words were confident. It was time Ian faced his past actions, and he didn’t want to escape any painful realization.

“Ian!” Mickey pleaded, because he knew. He knew that telling Ian everything meant making him realize what could have happened. Plus, it meant spilling his guts, not sure he would be able to. He didn’t know why Ian wanted to know; all he knew was that Ian’s assurance when he asked meant that he needed to know. And right in that instance, Mickey thought that maybe he also needed to tell.

“You sure?” He asked just as a final warning of what was about to come.

Ian grabbed the brunette’s cheeks in his hands and pulled his face for a soft, chaste kiss, full of all the love he felt for that man. “Yeah, I’m sure”.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the heat of the moment, sometimes, Mickey calls Ian Babe. That is so out of character for the Milkovich... But Ian can't have enough of it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so thank you so much for the kudos, the comment, everything! Please send more, I'm addicted already!
> 
> This chapter is short but intense! It is mainly angst and I am sorry but it ends well (sort of) + it's shameless right!
> 
> I really hope you like where I'm going with this story!  
> (Please read end notes)
> 
> Enjoy!

Ian had propped Mickey’s legs open and sat between them, one step below his husband, head resting on his chest. Mickey put his hands on Ian’s chest, passing them through the neck hole of the t-shirt and stroke gentle circles over the nipples.

The couple often took this position in the privacy of their bedroom. Buried in the protective chest of his husband, Ian felt safe, and loved. So loved. They wouldn’t show that much sweetness and tenderness in front of anyone, they knew better. But there weren’t many people to witness that, on the backstairs of the Gallagher house at 11 at night. And Ian needed to feel safe right about now.

Mickey raised his head forward and dropped it on the top of Ian’s head, mouth, and nose first. He took a deep breath, inhaling Ian’s smell and spoke through the messy ginger hair. “Ok, where do I start?” The question was for himself, but Ian answered anyways.

“The beginning,” Mickey raised an eyebrow. “The beginning?”. “Yeah, Mick. The border.” Ian said it in a whisper, almost wishing he wouldn’t hear it. “Fuck.” Mickey remained silent for a short while. He pulled his head back in a sudden gesture, bumping it softly against the wooden rail.

“Ok, Gallagher, I’ll tell you everything from the beginning then, but if you laugh at me, I’m gonna fuckin' pull your teeth out one by one, ok?!” Why would Ian laugh? He was miles away from the tiniest smile right now, let alone laugh.

“You know, you’re the only one that broke my heart.” Mickey’s voice was broken and shy. He had decided to go all in, never mind his fragile ego and fright to show his true self. Ian needed it and what Ian needed, Ian had. But damn it was hard!

“And you broke it three times… so far.” He chuckled. And Ian snorted. He was expecting the younger man to laugh at him opening like that, but Ian really didn’t want to laugh right now. Mickey could feel his heart beating stronger and faster through his chest, so he decided to move on to tell the story his husband wanted, no, needed to hear.

“Yeah… You broke my heart again at that fucking border. So, the first thing I did after I crossed over was find booze and drink myself to the fuckin’ next day. Wasn’t pretty, can tell you that!” Both took a deep breath.

“Shit, I hated you so much. I just couldn’t think straight. Every minute I changed my fuckin’ mind. I wanted to come back to the southside and kill you, man; and then I thought I’d stay there and drink myself to death, who would miss me anyways!”

“Mick!”. “No, don’t. You wanted to hear the story. That’s the fucking story.” This unaffected tone again. That hurt. But Ian shut up and waited for Mickey to carry on.

“I don’t know how long it lasted, but I woke up in Monterrey one day and I knew I had to move on and forget you, you know?” It wasn’t really a question and Ian kept silent. “So, I called this guy Damon knew, he was meant to hook us up with some cash and shit. I knew it was dangerous.” He swallowed loudly, “But, frankly I couldn’t give a fuck.”

“The guy was local gang and, I don’t know, I guess he liked that I didn’t care or something, ‘coz he gave me a job.”

They kept silent for a while, Mickey’s hands rested on Ian’s chest, flat, covering each peck but not moving. Ian startled when he fisted them.

“It was moving and selling mainly. Easy, right? I mean, not like I’ve been doing that all my fuckin’ life. And I just thought, work, shitload of cash, plus easy fucks, you know, I could get used to that. And, fuck!” he stopped, removed his hands from under Ian’s t-shirt to grab a smoke. Ian wanted to whimper at the loss of touch, but decided to remain silent, not wanting to break the moment.

“It was hard, man. Whatever I did, you were there in my fuckin’ mind. And the only way to get on was to be pissed at you. So, I got pissed… at everything. And that night, I… I went to this bar to pick up some ass. This guy kept annoying me and I sorta went fuckin’ mental on him. Shit, I nearly killed him!” Mickey’s voice was breaking more and more, reminiscing was obviously hurting him.

“The bartender stopped me. And he didn’t call the police or anything. Instead he got me to fuckin’ talk, man.” He sighed, a smile forming in the corner of his mouth.

“D’you imagine. Me spilling my gut to a beaner bartender!” he chuckled nervously and kept silent, waiting for Ian to react to that, surely expecting to be mocked. Ian stroked his thigh a few times, inviting his husband to keep talking.

“We spent a lot of time together, but we didn’t bang. It was just… Well, I couldn’t somehow. I think I liked having a friend and didn’t want to mess it up. And, I guess it just happened, you know.”

Silence. Ian couldn’t take upon himself to remain silent this time. “You banged?”. “No, we kissed. I…I wasn’t ready for more with him, then.” Ian’s heart dropped, the guy that would fuck in between two doors but took three year to kiss him, just admitted he had started a relationship with a kiss and nothing else. For a second, Ian wondered what to do with the tears cascading freely down his face. He decided to just let them fall, Mickey didn’t see his face, and he didn’t want him to see he was crying.

“Ok, I’m not proud of this so don’t laugh. OK?” He waited for Ian to nod. “Yeah, so we did all that couple crap yuppies are doing, you know, restaurant fuckin’ date and weekend outings and shit.” He laughed for a moment and stopped when he noticed Ian wasn’t.

“You ok?”. “Yeah, keep going,” Ian was whispering, hoping to hide how broken he was right now.

“I moved in with him. It was just easier, you know.” Fuck. He was trying to justify most likely the only time in his life he was happy. Ian shuddered. Mick stopped again, until Ian stroked his thigh one more time to invite him to continue. “And I don’t know man it was just quiet. I…I, fuck.” He took a deep breath, “I kinda let go of you, I suppose. Pablo helped me sort of forget about you, little by little. We found some kind of rhythm, I wasn’t angry all the time anymore, and it felt kinda good you know, and…”

“What kind of fucking asshole name is Pablo?!” Shit. It came out before Ian could control himself. He was jealous. Jealous that this guy gave Mickey something he had failed to provide. Jealous that this fucking Pablo made him feel ‘ _kinda good’_ , where it was his job and his job only.

“The fuck, man?” Ian raised up to sit straight and looked Mickey straight in the eyes.

“It should have been me!” Mick chuckled, sound coming from deep within his throat, not even trying to hide the hurt. “It could have, Gallagher!”

Ian wasn’t hiding his tears anymore. His husband brought his hand to his face to swipe the tears away, but Ian stopped him, grabbing his hand with his own. “Did you let him fuck you?”

“What?” the brunette seemed taken aback by the question.

Ian took a deep breath and kept his eyes locked with the expectant man in front of him.

“I know Mick. I know you top, most of the time despite what you say.” Another deep breath. “Actually, until now I thought I was the only one that…” he started laughing, trying his best to hide how broken he was. And failing epically. Mickey leaned over, held his neck with his hand, stroking gently, and quickly kissed him once before resting their cheeks together.

Tears met tears. Ian closed his eyes and brought his mouth closer to his Lover’s ear. Whisper, hardly louder than breath, “Did you let him fuck you?”. The answer wasn’t any louder even if Ian received it like a shout piercing his eardrum, “Yes”. “Did you love him?” Mickey sighed, his lip trembling faintly. “Yeah, I guess.”

Ian pulled out of their embrace, he had to get away from it. From him, put some distance between them. He ran down the stairs and braced himself against the fence. He felt cold. His mind then proceeded to analyze the reason why he didn’t take one more second to put on a jumper or a coat when he got dressed. Mickey got his jacket on, and he was upset when he got dressed. Still managed to think about basic stuff like wearing a coat in the fucking winter. Chills. Mickey. Fuck. Back to reality, still cold though. But Ian couldn’t care less.

“Why d’you come back?”

“That’s a fucking stupid question.” The matter-of-fact tone again, tears gone, Ian wondered if it was the cold or this tone that made his limbs feel like a million tiny needles were pricking all over. Mick had not moved except for lighting another cigarette.

“Come on, let’s get inside. You gonna freeze to death and I need a beer.” Mickey got up and made his way in, leaving the door open for Ian.

When he came in, his husband was already sipping through his beer, leaning against the counter and looking far away, into nothing.

“So?” Ian wanted, needed an answer. “’Coz you needed me asshole.”

“No, Mick. Why d’you choose me?”

“C’mon man! You know why! You’ve known for years. Why d’you have to second guess us all the time?”

Shit. Mick was right. This man spent his whole fucking time proving to him how much he loved him, and he had to ask for more, all the time.

“I love you, Mick. And I know you love me, alright! But I need to understand why you threw your freedom and apparently love too, down the fucking toilet for me!” The shorter man raised an eyebrow, Milkovich style.

“ _You_ ’re my freedom, shithead!” Mickey was annoyed that he had to go through this again.

Nothing more to add. They looked into each other’s eyes, deeply, for a long time, until Mickey broke the gaze.

“C’mon, it’s late and you need some sleep before you go to work.” They didn’t speak anymore that night, just went back to their room, undressed and fell asleep in each other’s arms. Ian was holding his man really tight, but Mickey didn’t say anything. They both needed it that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little side note on the name of Mickey's boyfriend in Mexico: I named him Pablo after a boss I had a few years back that was absolutely amazing with diffusing critical situations. No matter who he had in front of him, how intoxicated they were, a few minutes, a few words and the person would go their merry way ( while I had bar stools thrown at me...)  
> He was the same with us, always saying what we needed (and not always wanted) to hear.  
> Such a nice and honest person, he actually made me grow as a human being the few years we worked together. I lost track of him now but I wanted to base this character on him because I believe Mickey at that point deserved an honest, quiet and loving relationship.
> 
> FYI, this character will come back in later stories but will never be a main character.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed, next chapter is up Friday.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the heat of the moment, sometimes, Mickey calls Ian Babe. That is so out of character for the Milkovich... But Ian can't have enough of it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some well deserved sweetness in this chapter.
> 
> Ian doubts, because it's Ian.  
> Mickey doesn't doubt, because it's Mickey.
> 
> FYI - Some side storyline are set here but will be developed in the next story
> 
> Hope you enjoy Chapter 4, the one before last for this story. Let me know what you think ;-)

Mickey woke up to an empty bed, quite impressed Ian had managed to go to work after the night they had. He got up, got dressed and grabbed a cigarette before heading downstairs. Liam, Tami, and Lip with Fred in his arms were seated at the table having breakfast.

He threw a general ‘Hi’ to which everyone replied, including Lip to his surprise. He grabbed a cup and a bowl in the cupboard poured himself a coffee, cereals, and milk, and counted Ian’s pills, relieved to see the number of pills corresponded to the appropriate amount of take a day, today included.

As he was sitting at the table, Lip looked straight at him. “You still counting his pills? thought you stopped a while back.” It was conversationally and it surprised Mickey to receive a comment from Lip that wasn’t some kind of nasty remark or sarcasm. “Rough night, just wanted to make sure,” he took a sip at his coffee and kept looking at his cereals as an escape from looking up at Lip.

“I heard you last night, when you were outside,” Liam seemed unsure whether he should speak. “The fuck you spyin’ on us?” Maybe he was right to be unsure. “I wasn’t spying, you woke me up. I…” He sighed. “Is everything ok with Ian?”

Mickey looked at him and saw he was worried. He didn’t need much to melt in front of Liam, so the worried kid just broke his heart. He’d be damned if he showed it, though. So, he ignored it for now but would do his best to reassure him somehow, later.

“What time you’re back from school, dude? I need your help for some shit for setting up the agency”. “Yeah, sure. I’ll be back around four. Gotta go,” he quickly dropped his bowl in the sink, grabbed his school bag and went out by the front door.

“So, you found a solution to open your security agency after all?”

“Yeah, looks like it. Not too early, man. Looks like I might even be my first client with Terry and shit!” He chuckled and couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow when he heard Lip laugh with him.

“Glad you two find funny that a psycho homophobic asshole can barge in any moment and shoot at us!” Tami wasn’t laughing at all.

“Calm down Britney Spears, it’s all under control, all right!” And with that, breakfast was over, Tami just grabbed Fred and got out, leaving Lip to deal with the dishes. Mick silently finished his breakfast impatiently waiting for his brother in law to leave as well.

It happened fast. Finally, alone! This house was like a train station hall, worse than his. Somehow, he didn’t think it was possible, and yet. It wasn’t actually the number of people passing through, which was less than at the Milkovich’s at any given moment. It was more the lack of privacy. Nothing was kept hidden in this house. Ian was used to it, he wasn’t. Not sure he would at any point, but Ian was happy here, and that’s what mattered. Or was he?

Mickey went over last night events, rehashing their conversation over and over, not sure anymore he should have told Ian about Pablo. The voice telling him that it was better out in the open, was somehow fading more and more in the background as he kept busy with housework.

Who would have expected Mickey fucking Milkovich to do house chores? Not him, for sure! But as he had negotiated with his PO to stay out of work while working on opening his security company, it became obvious that the Gallaghers were expecting him to pull his weight around the house. He tried resisting at first but he quickly (and somewhat painfully) learned that you don’t mess with Debbie Gallagher. So, he cleaned the remaining dishes in the sink and used a cloth to swipe the counter and the table. After that he moved to hover the kitchen and the living room before making his way upstairs. He gathered the discarded clothes on the floor in all the bedrooms and threw them down the shoot. Enough for today.

In their bedroom, Mick immediately noticed the black frame had been placed on the bedside table on Ian’s side. It made his heart flutter a little. He pulled the sheet and cover up as an attempt at making up the bed and grabbed his birthday box. The bigger toy needed cleaning but the smaller green one could go to their sex box straight away.

Yeah, so Mickey had a sex box, full of different toys and lube. He liked toy and wasn’t ashamed of it. He liked taking things up his ass, and fuck of, ok! Although Ian had read right through him and only two dicks ever had the honor to make their way up there, toys were another story. Toys were greatly appreciated. Back to reality, why the fuck would Ian get him a smaller set of beads?

Mickey was cleaning the toy in the bathroom when he heard his phone make the single annoying ring of a text received.

Ian / 10:58 – _Hey! Thought we could have a quiet evening tonight. You, me, pizza, our room. What u think?_

Mickey / 10:59 – _Yeah. I’ll order Pizza, it’ll be there when you get back._

Ian / 11:04 – _Want to pick up where we left off_

Ian / 12:43 – _I meant sex Mick! My dick fuckin miss your ass!_ 😜😁

Mickey / 12:59 – _About that, why the fuck you got me tiny ass beads for? My ass ain’t half wimp fuck!_

Ian / 13:06 – _You seemed to speak highly of the bead toy, I thought I’d give it a try. Guess my ass is a half wimp fuck, then…_

Mickey / 13:07 – _Yeah… my half wimp fuck. Love you_

Ian / 13:07 – _Love you too!_ ❤❤❤

*

When Ian came back home that night, Mickey was in the kitchen with Lip, absorbed so much in what they were at that he startled them when he sat at the table.

He took his husband’s beer and sipped at it. The brunette looked at him, eyebrow raised.

“Sorry, can I?” Ian said raising the beer. Mickey kept his eyebrow up until his husband finally understood what he had failed to do. He lifted a few inches from the chair and leaned over the table to plant a quick peck on his cheek. Eyebrows moved back down replaced by a smile and a glance à la Mickey and chuckle from Lip.

“What u doin’?” Without looking up from the papers spread in front of them, Mick and Lip gave him a full answer.

“Lip’s helping me with the paper shit from city hall.”

“Yeah and we gonna put the company in my name for now. Liam can help but, having the whole damn thing in his name might be a bit too much for a 10-year-old.” Ian swallowed a gasp seeing that Mickey didn’t seem even a little bit upset with Lip’s comment. He decided he’d let Mick tell him about it when ready. Or if that didn’t happen in a few days, he’d make sure Mick was ready to tell him.

“Hungry, pizza here already?”

“Yeah in the room.”

“Go on, I’ll keep working on that and we can discuss it in the morning. Ok?” Ian and Mickey looked at Lip for a second, not quite sure what to think about Lip’s proposition. But both men needed two things in that instant: Pizza and getting lost in each other. And not in that order. So, Mickey just sent a half-hearted thanks from the top of the stairs where he followed a suddenly very impatient Ian.

The pizza was definitely cold when they got to it, but the two men were satisfied, both emotionally and physically. Laying naked on his stomach, Mickey was attacking his third piece of pizza. Looks like sex opens appetite.

“Man, I could do with great sex and pizza every night, even cold pizza!” He laughed at his own joke and shivered when he felt Ian’s hand on his left ass cheek, gently stroking over old scars. He felt soft kisses and sighed deeply, content. Ian moved down to his thigh, kissing at the bullet wound scar he got there. Mickey started to notice a pattern, but Ian’s gentle strokes and kisses were too damn good to risk saying anything.

When Ian gently turned him over and started kissing the non-existent scar at the exact place his father pistol-wiped him so many years ago, Mick decided to stop him.

“Dude, the fuck you’re doing right now?”

“Admiring my artwork!” the words were muffled by Mickey’s temple connected to his lips. The brunette abruptly moved away from the embrace.

“Your artw... C’mon man, the fuck you’re on about now?”

Ian raised his head to look him straight in the eyes and stroked Mickey’s thigh. “I got you shot here.” He moved his hand up and pushed it between Mickey and the bed, grabbing his ass cheek and pulling on it intently. “I got you shot there.” He put his mouth back over the shorter man’s temple. “I got you hit here”.

Mickey was looking at him with a steel face. It didn’t stop Ian, though. He locked his eyes with the blues ones once again and brought his hand to Mickey’s chest, gently stroking small circles above the left nipple. “And let’s not forget the soaring scars there… At least three.”

Somehow, Ian had thought he could convey fun while he counted the number of times Mickey was brought down by his actions. But his tone was bitter, and his gesture screamed sadness. The smile he had forced on his face resembled more a wince. Mick grabbed his hand and flattened it on his chest, his other hand landing on his husband cheek, gently stroking the cheekbone with his thumb, ready to swipe the tears away should they come. And they came.

“Ian, you’ve got to stop that shit, man. I’m here ‘coz I decided to be here, alright! I chose you ‘coz… Well ‘coz you’re fuckin’ you. That’s it, Ok! _You_ ’re it, man! And the sooner you accept that the sooner we can be happy like we fuckin’ deserve, hmm?!”

Green and Blue lost themselves in each other for a while, maybe a minute, maybe ten, or even maybe a few seconds, but who cared. When Ian couldn’t hold his tears anymore, Mickey stroked them away with his thumb, gently, with all the love Ian new he was capable of because he was so often the recipient of it.

Mickey moved Ian’s hand to delicately put it on his chest tattoo. “You want to admire your artwork, huh? Admire this one asshole, that’s your best fuckin’ job!”. Ian chuckled and moved their hands away to kiss each letter of his misspelled last name.

“You remember I told you that you were under my skin?” Mick’s voice was broken, Ian didn’t reply, just kept kissing fervently. “Well, this is your fuckin’ reminder alright?! Every time you feel like that again, remember you’re under my skin, forever.”

They didn’t say a word after that. No need for words. They let their bodies speak. Each kiss was a declaration of love, each flick of the tongue a promise. Their hands expertly found their way to where they should be, where they should stroke, where they should hold and grab. Their bodies themselves danced on the same rhythm following notes no one else but them could hear. And when both of them felt it right, their bodies connected.

Ian had pulled Mickey’s legs over his shoulders. Positioned himself and entered him slowly, watching every micro expression. He smiled when he bottomed out and could only find lust, love and happiness on his husband’s face.

The tall man remained completely still for a while, absorbing the heat of his lover. Mickey was holding him tightly, not wanting him to move either. Feeling him deep inside, no movement, was what he needed right now. Last night was so emotional, he needed to feel connected to the love of his life. Not that he wouldn’t want a good and nice pounding in a minute or so. But for now, feeling full, feeling Ian skin touching his skin, feeling their tongues mingling and slowly chasing each other, it was exhilarating and calming at the same time. It was home. How could Ian think for even a second that Mickey wasn’t made to belong to him?

If he had to be honest, he did love Pablo. He did imagine his life with him. He did feel happy. But, the second he saw that face on the t-shirt of that stupid yuppie, he realized there was no forgetting Ian fucking Gallagher. That was it, and he made his peace with it. He never even second guessed his decision. What would have been the point anyhow? When you know, you know, and you accept it the way it is, bad shit, good shit, all the shit. All of it.

There was one thing he knew he would have difficulties to come to term with, so he decided to not think about it. It was how he left Pablo to deal with whatever shit he left behind with the cartel.

Shit. Thinking about that brought again this fucking sensation of knives tearing his heart apart.

Back to Ian! Come on!

He closed his eyes to feel the heat between them. Now would be the perfect time for a pounding after all. He started pushing his hips up, indicating to his husband that he wanted him to fuck him hard. Message received. Ian made small circle movements for a short while to make sure Mick was good to go. And he moved to almost exiting the comfortable hole before pushing back hard and repeating the movement at an increasing pace until he got them both where they wanted, a panting mess of skin and sweat, slapping sounds and growls. Ian had buried his head in his lover’s neck, kissing and lapping at every inch of skin he could find. Mickey was holding Ian’s head in place with both his hands, pulling at his hair less and less gently, eliciting more and more moans.

And when climax came for both, only a short time apart, a bliss silence invaded the room, only broken by three words whispered almost like a prayer. “I love you”. And retaliated in the next breath, “I love you more”.

If only Ian could accept that he’s worth receiving these words a million times more than he is giving them, Mickey thought before falling asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the heat of the moment, sometimes, Mickey calls Ian Babe. That is so out of character for the Milkovich... But Ian can't have enough of it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! so this is the final chapter of 'Babe' I really hoped you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
> 
> This has been a roller coaster of emotions to post it here! Thanks for the kudos and the comments and everything! (just so you know I feel pretty self aware of the sex scenes... I am working to make them better. But it's f*** hard!)
> 
> Also, note that the second story of this series is completed but needs proof reading. I will post the 1st chapter on Friday. It's called 'Bliad' (which according to google translation means 'Fuck' in Russian. If this is not the case, please let me know!)
> 
> Enjoy the reading you guys!💜
> 
> (Please read end of chapter notes)

Mickey woke up alone again. Today, however, this was somewhat odd as Ian was only working late shift. Not that he cared much, they were not the kind of guys that needed to stay glued to each other 24/7. Hell, their time together in the joint fucking proved that. He chuckled silently to the harsh souvenir and got up. Although, he sorts of wanted them to spend more alone time together since they opened up these last few days. He felt they needed to rediscover themselves now that shit was out in the open. He obviously wouldn’t say that to his husband as he’s not a fucking desperate housewife.

So, Ian would just have to guess by himself.

Downstairs, Lip was alone.

“Mornin’, you seen Ian?”

“Yeah he left early, said he had an errand to run.” Lip was sorting papers in 3 piles on the table.

“So, I filled it all out. These need to be filed with Town hall, these with NRS, and these with both. Then you gonna have to register your employees, but that can be done online.” Lip looked at Mick, trying to find any kind of expression on his face. Nothing, Mickey Milkovich steel face full on.

“Guess you want to hire your brothers, better make sure whatever social you use can stand investigation.”

“Nah, man. With their record we’d have everyone on our ass. Better if I’m the only ex-con for now. I’ll start looking for someone this week. Think you can help me to register the fucker then?”

“Yeah… Sure, yeah, just let me know. Ah, and I’d make copies of all that if I were you.”

“Where the fuck do I make copies?” Lip snorted and just exited the house, which in return got him the finger from the brunette.

Mickey took a quick shower and left the house hands full of papers. He thought the best place to make copies was the supermarket on Chicago road. Assuming supermarkets still had xerox machines. He thought he could also buy some supply. Folders and shit, now that he was a fucking manager, he had to have supply. He couldn’t help but smile proudly thinking of the outstanding citizen he was becoming. He also had to admit he was glad Lip helped with the paperwork ‘coz that shit was madness. After the conversation they had, he was ready to trust him, let’s see were that would get them. Also, he had to remember to tell the whole thing to Ian (bar a few details that is), see what he thought about it.

Lost in his thoughts, Mickey only noticed the person following him when he was just a few feet away. Quick analysis of the situation: The presence seemed fiendish. He had no weapons. His hands full of fucking papers. Mick checked the surroundings: Empty street, wooden fence on the right. So, if he had to run that’d be on the street, hoping for no cars. Or maybe he could fight, after all he could hold his own in a fight!

He turned around, dropped the papers, the Milkovich famous rage face full on. “The fuck d’you… Fuck!”

Terry was standing just a few steps from him, waving a knife, looking even more psychopath than usual, if it was even possible. Mick froze for a second. Just enough for Terry to move up to him, aiming the knife straight at his throat.

Before any of them could make another move, sirens sounded from up the street. As he saw the cop car coming their way, the older man ran the other way, flipping his son. Mickey spent some time breathing in and out and tried to hide his fright by meticulously gathering the papers scattered all over the pavement. He fucking froze. Shit. If it hadn’t been for the fucking police, Terry would have gotten him. He definitely needed to do something about that.

“Hey, Mickey, you ok?” Tony Markovich!?

“Yeah.”

“You sure?”

“YEAH!”

“Ok. Hey congrats by the way!” He looked intently at the ring on the brunette’s finger. Mick looked at him left eyebrow raised and took a few seconds to reply.

“Thanks.”

Even ‘Fuck off’ wouldn’t have said ‘fuck off’ as much as his ‘thanks’ did. I mean, even Tony Markovich took the hint!

“Ok, I gotta go. Say hi to Ian, ok?”

Mick replied by flipping his finger at him until the car turned round the corner.

*

When Ian came back home that evening, Mick was already in their room. The view of his husband seated on the bed sorting papers in a folder brought a smile to his face. “Fuck you lookin’ at, man?”

“Nothing, how was your day?”

“Good, company is officially open. And I already have a client, the supermarket on Chicago road. One month to start, and if it goes well, I might get all the Aldis in the city.”

“Really? Wow.”

“Yeah, some shit about the company they use being unreliable or something. If it works, I’d have to get at least five employees. I’m about to become a fuckin’ yuppie, man!” They both laughed while the tall ginger undressed to his boxers and sat behind his husband, crossing his hands around his waist and pulling him into an embrace. Mickey rested his head on Ian’s right collar bone and sighed content. Skin to skin at last.

“Gig starts on Wednesday, so I need to find a fucking security guard by then.” He put his hands over Ian’s and gently stroked at the knuckles.

“How you’re working tomorrow?”

“I’m not until Sunday, actually. So, I was thinking… maybe we could spend the next two days doing something special.”

“What you’re thinkin’?” Mickey closed his eyes, rocked by Ian’s steady heartbeat.

“Oh. Something really special! I was thinking we stay here, together, for two fucking days. Food delivered to our door and even a bucket to fucking piss, so we don’t leave the bed. What d’you think?” Mickey’s smile was so wide it would probably hurt a little later.

“I think that I hope you planed some shit for us to do, ‘coz I’m not sure I want to spend two whole days looking at your pasty ass peeing in a bucket.” They both laughed loudly, Until Mickey suddenly turned around and used the velocity of his movement to shift position and straddle Ian. He pushed his man down and locked his hands on his arms.

“So?”

“So, I thought we’d fuck.”

“Ok, I’m down for that.” He looked Ian in the eyes, biting his bottom lip, lust pouring out his gaze.

“And I thought you might want to take some time to admire _your_ artwork.”

“What?” Ian looked down his chest with a mischievous smile, like a child.

Mickey sat up on Ian’s lap and looked at the bandage on his lover’s chest, right above his left nipple, eyes wide open and eyebrows to the roof,kicking himself for not noticing it before.

He caught a corner of the dressing and pulled slowly, looking Ian in the eyes all along. Once the bandage discarded on the floor, he took a deep breath and hesitantly looked at _his artwork_. And there it was, all swollen, with pics of blood and a red and angry border of skin all around, inharmonious on the creamy white skin it was sitting on.

_**Mickey Mikovic** _  
  
---  
  
He kept circling around the upset skin, the corners of his mouth down, his bottom lip moving slightly, obviously trying to pronounce words that weren’t coming. And as usual with Mickey Milkovich, the words that managed to come out were raw. But, and only for Ian Gallagher, they were also full of emotions.

“What the fuck is that?”

“Well, you know, I get to have a reminder that I’m under your skin every time I look at you,” with his thumb, he stroked gently the tattoo on his husbands chest. “I thought it’s only fair you get to see how much you’re under my skin too.”

They looked at each other for a while, locked in their own private world again, the one where words are meaningless. Mickey broke the spell when he crashed their lips together. And in a matter of seconds their tongues were meddling, becoming one in tingling mouths. Chests, bellies so tightly stuck together they even had a hard time breathing. Their hands intertwined above Ian’s head. Even the sighs and moans had to fight to exit their bodies.

Mickey broke their embrace, eliciting a desperate whimper from Ian. He looked his husband in the eyes, brought his left hand back down to lovingly stroke his cheek. Happy with the content, wimpy moans exiting the amazing man in his arms, he delicately brought their foreheads together, noses touching and whispered in his mouth before reconnecting their demanding lips.

“I need you to fuck me now, babe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo! What do you think?
> 
> Note: Some questions are not answered here, they will be answered in the next story of this series: 'BLIAD'
> 
> Thanks! 💜


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